#political imbalance

[toomanythoughts4myhead]

Where my sorrows went to die

Summary: The prologue to my story: Ballads never end happily and neither do we.(based on my prompt).What if Coriolanus hadn’t managed to kill his lover back in district 12? What if the face haunting his life for the past three years comes back in flesh and bone? Will things be different this time or will he repeat the same mistakes? Giving you the gist of what Coriolanus has been up to since his return in the Capitol and how the story starts.

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow (the walking red flag), mentions of death, mentions of grief and pain, the usual egomaniacal inner monologue Corio has (tell me if I missed anything)

Pairings: young!Coriolaus Snow x reader

A/N: Gave this man too much backstory out of nowhere, next chapters will have more action I swear. I just HAD to explain some of what was running through my head as basis of the plot. Hope you enjoy!

[Masterlis] [Next chapter ->]

Word count: 2.8K (around)

The oak trees in the fireplace were burning up, turning black and runny. The pleasant barely heard cracking from burning bark was long gone. The fire was dying, its life extinguished.

It felt familiar.

Coriolanus barely noticed the change in light or temperature, too engrossed in the paperwork that came along with his new working position. It wasn’t the boring cushiony job that he had envisioned back in his academy days, but it was better. The scribbling of pen on paper came to a halt, as the smell of burning wood turned to coals. Coriolanus didn’t much favor the smell of coals, or the cinder they left behind everywhere.

 With an almost frustrated squelch of the expensive chair, he had for his study desk, he stood up and called for someone to clean up the fireplace.

He had won his way back to the Capitol, back to wealth and power, back to his true highest form. He didn’t need to breath in the cinder in the air anymore.

He didn’t need to return back to her.

In his upright position he opens one of the windows of his study, the one that overlooks the Capitols center. The cool December air hits him just right, the smell of snow heavy in early morning. The freshness clears his mind and sooths his newfound tenseness which he makes sure to correct as an avox scurries into the room. He doesn’t have to tolerate their filth anymore.

A lot of things have happened in the past 3 years. After his return from duty in district 12, he went on to university and finished his studying under Dr Gaul’s keen eye. Most of his time had truly been spend hauled up in her laboratories, discussing and going over ideas for the games before he was officially made into a part of the game makers. Youngest of them all he had acted on the same manners and sweet-talking he had used for his teachers in the Academy. Old people’s need for respect and admiration made them easy to flatter, it was almost funny.

Back in the days where he had to fear of the upcoming day, he had worked with whatever limited resources he had, running himself dry to hide his families fall from prosperity. Now that he had the Plinths grief-stricken minds, open hearts and fat wallets he could allow his mind to focus solely on whatever web he was spinning this time around. It felt good not to worry for money. Even if it was tarnished by the fact, he had resorted to taking it from districts. But who better take the money of people not belonging in this world than the future president of Panem? It was in everyone’s best interest.

For his 20th birthday the Plinths had bought him his own penthouse. He remembers it well, it wasn’t exactly a surprise, or a well-hidden one at that. Ma Plinth had been looking at him all teary eyed and smitten at the annual Friday dinner he had to sit through, blabbering on and on how he was becoming a fine young man and needed to settle in his own nest, to spread his wings and fly to a new horizon. What was with district people and their birds?

Granma ‘am always looked disdained at best by Mrs. Plinths company, but that night in particular seemed truly to be a new high. Seeing Mrs. Plinth rave about her Corio as if she had been the one who raised him must have rubbed her the wrong way, judging by the poisonous glances. She would never truly be able to stomach knowing that their way of life was supported by lucky district bumpkins, but at her old age she couldn’t complain too much. Her hair was thinning and her eyes were losing their focus, not to mention her aching knees. Thankfully with some of Plinth’s money the elevator was fixed and she could actually go out, rather than sing the hymn all day and water her roses. She was getting older, it always stuck out to Coriolanus, and he always almost immediately focus on the smiling figure of Tigris next to her.

She was able to quit her dead-end job as a seamstress, or more like the cleaner of the cloth shop. She could take life easier, even if her good heart and hardworking soul didn’t let her indulge too much in the luxuries their new life brought along. She never wanted to bother the Plinths, she didn’t like that they were leeching off of them, despite knowing it’s the best thing to do.

She had mentioned it to Coriolanus once, over a glass of some fancy alcohol Strabo Plinth had brought over after the main dinner had ended. The Plinths had returned to the apartment above them and grandma ‘am had retired to her room. With a creased brow and wine-stained lips she had mentioned it didn’t feel right to suck so much money out of the grieving minds of the Plinth’s, that it just didn’t sit right with her to see the poor family crumble so much so that they would turn Coriolanus into their pseudo son and project all their ruined dreams on him. Coriolanus had thrown her a glance over the rim of his glass, expression plane and unbothered, even if faint disdain could be read in his eyes. Not feeling like going in detail over the matter he had simply asked what should they do instead. They continued to drink in silence into the late hours of the night.  

Despite this she now worked in a respectable position at Strabo’s Ammunition enterprise. She made a decent paycheck, way better than the scraps she was offered before. The weight of the family’s survival had been lifted off of her frail, still too young shoulders and it seemed that her youth had returned. Coriolanus always knew that their age gap was small, but he also knew how much Tigris had sacrificed: her education, wellbeing, personal life all to provide for him and Granma ‘am. Now her face shone with delight and beauty, lighting every room she entered. She has formed friendships at work, most of which Coriolanus approved, she was even seeing some girl, it made her happy.  Coriolanus was glad to see her live the life she was always meant to have, despite everything. She was always the most deserving one, the kindest, the most compassionate, untainted by the same hate that seemed to be rooted in the family line. The one he seemed to be burdened to carry. Some days he envied her, most days he pitied her.

The gifted penthouse was luxurious and spacious, no surprises there. Most of the walls were bare except for a recent portrait the Snows had gotten as a gift from Ma Plinth, actually almost everything was bare, Coriolanus supposed that it was part of the “wing spreading” process for him to design his living space. Sleeping on a mattress on the floor for a few days until his furniture came, brought back some memories certainty, but in the end, he was able to decorate as he pleased rather than deal with the sentimental cluttered nonsense he had witnessed on many occasions at the Plinths. It screamed of people who weren’t used to having money and that’s the last thing Coriolanus needed.

Now he had it all, lavish furniture, a private study, a grand bedroom, personal avoxes to take care of it for him. All colours, items on the walls, tables, shelfs and their clearly expensive prices, it all created the image of the person Coriolanus wanted to be perceived as, all people should know of him. It made him fit in enough with the rich snobs, but shine apart from everyone else with his own personal taste. He would take pride in inviting possible work partners and sponsors for the games over.

Between balancing his position as a game maker, his shares in the Plinth business, he would no doubt inherit in a few years, and his personal relations with family and possible allies, he was spread thin in the best way possible. He was busy building his empire, his legacy, he knew he would achieve what he wanted in the end.

Not because he was blatantly arrogant, not only at least, not because he was charismatic and silver-tongued, not because of how the population of Panem seemed to swoon for the charm and looks he presented himself with. It was all because there wasn’t a price, he wasn’t willing to pay to achieve what he desired. That was the truest form of power, to have the control over your own attachments, the things that rendered everything and anything important. When you have none of that, what will stop you?

He has learned his lesson, he had felt the sting of powerlessness because of his stupidly naive love. Coriolanus Snow will never love again, he would be the one sinking his poison and manipulating this time, pulling the strings of other people’s attachment, but he would never hand over the reins of his heart again.

The angular clean shapes created by the Capitols buildings were smudged by the fast pace of his personal car and the falling snow. Dr Gaul had managed to haul him out of his warm home and call on him to personally visit her.

Coriolanus must admit that he did not miss this side of his new obligations. As he had begun to climb ranks in the social rings Dr Gaul had also stopped breathing down his neck as much, seemingly satisfied by his choices. Back at University when he was basically her apprentice he would have to see and act on her whims every single day. He respects her and her realistic views on humanity and society, but her unpredictability has always made him uncomfortable. He could feel safe knowing he was needed in her future plans but he could never be fully sure what they are exactly. Her mind seemed far too outlandish and out of the box, possibly mad even, for him to decipher and it always put him on edge when he got a call out of the blue.

The car rolls to a stop and his expensive boots leave marks in the snow as he climbs the stairs to the Citadel. The building had always been rather extraordinary and over the top in the way the Capitol seemed to love, so it had faced no renovations or changes in the past years. The same couldn’t be said for most structures in the Capitol. It seems that people have grown tired of seeing all the damage done by the war on the streets and buildings. Especially as the success of the past few hunger games had got the population of the Capitol more hyped, the nationalism seems to have grown.

Most simply enjoyed the games as a really bloody reality TV show at this point, but the older people who still felt the burning hatred for the districts were left satisfied and made big donations, satisfied by the cruel blood baths. Donations were made for rebuilding too, people wanted to drive home how truly better the Capitol was, how its reign would last forever. That was a sentiment Coriolanus was very satisfied to contribute to, he wanted to feel everyday how much better he was than those animals.

The acidic warm air of the labs underground makes him feel a bit better, winters seem to have grown harsher in the past years.

Good.

The staff directly assisting Dr Gaul hadn’t changed much, a few new unimportant faces but most knew him well enough not to even ask what business he had there. He made his way down the narrowing corridors, unbothered by all the abominations that were crying or wailing in their cages. He had seen them too many times to pity them and had watched them rip to shreds a few too many tributes in the newer editions of the games to feel remorse.

He opened the white heavy door to Doctor Gaul’s personal labs and searched for the woman with his gaze. She was waiting for him in her preferred red robes, purposefully stained, it always gave her a sinister aura, especially when she was wearing that unpredictable smile to match. Nothing friendly or even sadistically happy, it was all teeth and that unpredictable glint in her eyes.

She always looked at people like they were her little test subjects, thrilled to find out if they will die or live another day at her hands.

 “Snow is falling heavily on Panem this winter, it seems to be overtaking the city by a storm. I am wishing you the same fate Mr. Snow.”

Coriolanus really hadn’t missed her little word plays and he had missed even less having to rake his brain for possible answers.

“Dr Gaul you requested to see me for something important, as I understand?” – Coriolanus asks calmly, making sure his impatience to return back home wasn’t too obvious, as he fiddled with the petals of the white rose tucked in his suit pocket.

“Young Mr. Snow you have been doing well, it seems you are putting what you learned back from District 12 to good use. You have realized the way people’s puny brains work and how attachment controls them, your ideas based on this thesis have helped raise the Hunger games to the civilian’s interest. For that I applaud you.”

The click clacking of her heels sounded oddly hollow compared to the deafening silence created in the laboratory.

 Where was she going with this?

“But I often wonder if you yourself are able to withstand those powerful emotions within yourself. If you truly have been cured of it as you claim to have been.”

“Doctor Gaul I don’t understand-”

“Then perhaps we should test it to be sure. Follow me, Mr. Snow”

And with that she was walking away and deeper into the secluded laboratories down the hall. Coriolanus had no other choice but to follow her, even as his mind was running lightyears ahead of him.

What did this crazy woman intend to do? Flashes of Clementina’s fate flash before his eyes from all those years back and he knows that Dr Gaul would do whatever she pleases and stop at nothing. If she meant to test his attachment then that would mean she would harm Tigris? Granma’ am?

Flashes of strung up corpses accompanied by screams of birds fly through his mind and almost dull his vision. Thankfully he doesn’t walk head first into the wall at a specific sharp turn. He stands up straighter and slows his step, he is Coriolanus Snow, he is in control.

As he follows the menacing figure of Dr Gaul around a seemingly endless corridor of small rooms, that had a striking resemblance to a medical wing, they came to a gradual stop in front of room 278. No words were exchanged as they wordlessly stepped inside. He realized with a baited breath and fastening heartbeat, that his assumption about the medical wing had been correct. The room consisted of white walls and a simple medical bead that lay in the middle of the floor, currently hidden by drapes. The clinical acidic smell and lack of corpses at first glance made his shoulder untense under his red vest, just a little.

Dr Gaul walked over with the same unshakable calmness she always carried and went to stand next to the bed, just inches from the curtains, signaling for Coriolanus to come and open them. She observed him unblinkingly, the spark of interest never wavering.

If something gained such a strong response from doctor Gaul, Coriolanus was ready to sign his loved ones’ obituaries.

His heart was beating out of his chest and he hoped his breathing hadn’t intensified, as his hand took a hold of the rough material. He knew that he wasn’t visually showing anything, years of play pretend and weaving lies had made him an amazing subconscious actor, but he also knew that nothing escaped Dr Gaul’s gaze.

He pulled back the curtains with a sharp tug and for a few moments he didn’t know how to respond.

He felt almost naïve relief as he witnessed sprawled out body, so foreign from his family’s. And then it all came back cascading onto him as his mind cleared and he looked past the stress induced haze.

The image he had been seeing every night, the ghost haunting everything beautiful, the job he never finished properly.

It was you.

[ravenkings]

[lokittystuckinatree]

Yeah a coconut just hit him on the head. Isn’t that random? He was golfing like he always does and a coconut fell out of a coconut tree and …there was nothing they could do to prepare him…hard to believe the universe doesn’t have even a concept of a plan in such moments, ya know?

*sips a martini out of a coconut shell* anyways I was at the pharmacy today and this lady was trying to get HRT for her cat

[earfgoddesss]

it is my personal belief that NOT ALL art/media is political...but saying ATLA/Korra isn't political is just so objectively wrong. Despite it being a kids show, ATLA generates endless discussion on irl parallels.

Everyone knows Korra comments on political themes consistently and all the main conflicts/antagonists resemble irl political ideologies and movements.

Altho ATLA has a lot more of the fun adventure to it, especially season 1...the entire conflict of the show is driven by politics and war. Sozin deciding to invade the other nations because "the fire nation is experiencing great progress and we should 'share' it" is the most overtly political motivation and it's what kicks off the entire conflict of the show, affecting almost every character's backstory.

Jet?? The entire Ba Sing Se arc?? The Air nomads?? Aang's entire backstory?? I mean, in a way the entire finale is like "does Ozai deserve the death penalty?"

Like I understand not wanting to be challenged with political themes sometimes in media you like because it's escapism for you too (real world is hell). been there, but in that case that's on you to not engage. ...but when people are like "guys stop making everything about politics in avatar show." Um?? No??

[myrxellabaratheon]

The Throbb power imbalance: a pet peeve of mine

I’ve been thinking a lot about if posting this or not, but as it’s a trope which is getting more and more popular I think I should at least explain why I said multiple times that A. I don’t really dig it and B. I don’t really think there is any power imbalance between them. (I know, who cares? you might ask, and honestly I don’t know but still)

So, let’s start saying that, differently for most of the other tropes in ASOIAF, there isn’t a “real life” translation of Theon’s situation in history (the closest I can think about it’s Vlad the Impaler’s childhood years and whatever Richard III did to his nephews during the Two Roses War, when it comes to highborn hostages, but both situations are different enough) which makes it difficult to really grasp the dynamics if the story was real.

Then, surely there is a sort of power imbalance between Theon and Ned and that’s not what I’m discussing here.

The problem is that Theon is Ned’s hostage and it’s been decided by Robert so when Ned dies Robert should have “confirmed” that Theon situation stayed immutate (hostages aren’t hereditary, especially not highborn ones and especially not when they aren’t taken hostage by the person but their captivity is decided by someone else). Considering that Robert dies before Ned, Theon is “free” the moment Robert dies, technically (because it’s Robert who took him hostage, not Ned).

Which brings us back to the fact that Robb and Theon have no obligation toward each other in that sense (and I’m not even bringing their friendship into the mix which will make things even more complex). Theon wasn’t even obligated to follow Robb in war tbqh, not by any law — he does because he’s the one suggesting Robb to call the banners and has that weird unresolved daddy issue with Ned, but still.

Also Robb isn’t Theon’s liege lord or king and never could he be! Theon is an ironborn and the heir to the Iron Islands (that’s the reason why he’s been taken hostage in the first place). If you pay attention, he never calls Ned “my lord” and refers to him as Lord Stark and nobody asks him to bend the knee to Robb or swear his loyalty to House Stark because he DOESN’T have to! One of the things I loved the most about the show is that when he does bend the knee he does it because it’s Robb he’s pledging ALLIANCE to (no obedience)!

- Am I your brother, now and always!

- Now and always.

- The King in the North!

And even when he calls him “Your Grace” later on he’s clearly teasing. (And it’s even more tragic because Theon would WANT Robb to be HIS king when they are both aware he’s not). And even when he goes back to the Islands his idea is the one to propose an alliance between them.

So where does the idea of power imbalance comes from? From Theon’s own chapters! He’s the one who feels like he’s not enough for the Starks (and generally it’s not like anyone but Robb made him ever feel differently). The entire power imbalance thing comes from the fact that he always wanted to be a Stark and considering that he’s never been allowed to, he feels like he’s not worth them (this also bodes well with the entirety of Theon’s character). And the point is: in my honest opinion, it’s waaaay better if the power imbalance is only perceived (especially in a shipping situation).

[wutheringmights]

I’m so curious, obviously for years Lincoln has had complicated feelings about Warriors as his son but what were Ganondorf’s thoughts on what he heard about Warriors?

May I introduce you to the biggest thorn in Lincoln and Ganondorf's marriage?

So the story starts long before they ever got married. In fact, Ganondorf was happily married to his first wife when Lincoln barged into his palace, pale-faced because he just found out that the woman he almost married was pregnant with what is probably his child. Delightful.

They both agreed that Lincoln had to do the right thing and step up, even if Ganondorf was a little sad about the idea of his best friend getting married.

Luckily, Lincoln still didn't marry Marigold. However, the conversation where he had to tell Ganondorf that he wasn't going to be in Link's life was... interesting. Ganondorf could not understand how Lincoln could walk away from his own child. Lincoln insisted that he was only walking away because Marigold insisted, but Ganondorf fully believed that Lincoln should ignore Marigold's wishes and do whatever it would take to be in Link's life.

This argument got bad. Really bad. They ended up agreeing to drop the subject and not bring it up again, but it was a real sore spot for many years.

Even when they married, Ganondorf never dared to broach the topic. Lincoln was still sensitive about the whole ordeal and Ganondorf... I wouldn't call Ganondorf insecure. He's a very confident man. But he is very aware that since he can't leave the palace, there are parts of Lincoln's life he can never reach. Sometimes, it's easier to pretend that those untouchable parts of Lincoln's life just simply don't exist.

It was easier to bury any concerns Ganondorf had about Lincoln's bastard child than to risk disrupting the seemingly delicate balance of their relationship. (He didn't realize that the balance wasn't delicate and that their marriage was rock-solid, but he would figure that out eventually).

Then the war started.

This hasn't come up in story yet, but canonically, Lincoln and Ganondorf had no contact during the two years Hyrule was in the War of Eras. Why? Because Lincoln knew he was being watched and monitored by the Sheikah. He didn't dare to even send a coded letter to Ganondorf in fear that it would reveal Ganondorf's existence to Impa.

Lincoln and Ganondorf mutually agreed to this (and had some great goodbye sex about it), but it was still hard going no-contact for two whole years.

Unable to leave his palace, Ganondorf had to content himself with whatever rumors he heard about Lincoln from his own messengers.

Lincoln and the Hero of Hyrule hate each other? That was going to be one hell of a conversation to have, but nothing that pegged Ganondorf as worrisome.

That Lincoln legitimized a second, previously unknown bastard out of nowhere? What the fuck?

Ganondorf trusts Lincoln to the ends of the earth. He always believed Lincoln to be a good, honor man who would never lie to him. But by the ancestors, this one tested him.

And he had to stew in that for two years. Two. Whole. Years.

When the war ended and Lincoln was certain that Impa was no longer interested in spying on him, he finally went to the Gerudo Fortress for a long awaited reunion.

And listen, Lincoln's not an idiot. He figured Ganondorf got wind of what happened. He just didn't expect this to trigger the biggest fight of their marriage.

Ganondorf finally unloaded years worth of disappointment he had for Lincoln not being a father to his own kid. And when Lincoln finally explained the story behind Linkle, Ganondorf then was furious that Lincoln would try to keep him a secret from her.

Lincoln still insisted that respecting Marigold's wishes was the right thing to do, though Link turning out to be a terrible person didn't hurt his case. As for Linkle, he kept reminding Ganondorf that his existence had to be kept a secret and it wouldn't be right to unload the weight of that secret onto a child.

Ganondorf ended up kicking Lincoln out of the palace. He wasn't allowed back in for two weeks.

Here's the thing: Ganondorf is a king. Not only that, but he's good at being the king. Logically speaking, he knew that Lincoln was right about not telling Linkle the truth. But it's the principle of the matter, and he didn't want Lincoln to think he could ever get away with this again.

When they finally talked again, they were both calmer and willing to talk it out. Basically, they came to a bit of a truce:

Lincoln admitted that he was wrong for not stepping up to be Link's dad, though his blame for what Link did since stops there

Ganondorf and Lincoln would agree to disagree about how much Link's long list of atrocities are Lincoln's fault

While Ganondorf can insist that Lincoln deserves some of the blame, he also agrees that it may be too late for Lincoln to repair his relationship with Link

Lincoln will tell Linkle about Ganondorf the moment she is ready to hold that secret, whether she's an adult or a still a kid

When it's time, Lincoln has to introduce Linkle to Ganondorf himself (Linkle spends so much time in Gerudo Town that Ganondorf could feasibly force their meeting, but he knows that this is something Lincoln has to do himself)

Lincoln has to at least consider trying to reach out to Link in a neutral manner (or, at the very least not try to ruin his life out of spite)

If Ganondorf ever learns that Lincoln has another bastard child running around from anyone who isn't Lincoln himself, then he's going to divorce his ass and throw him into the dungeon

[mqfx]

devil in my ear says romantasy should have hualesbians which opens up the bigger question of "should I just trans everyone's gender then"

[testosteronetempation]

the problem with political play is that even the "left wing" stuff is like "haha get cucked (but im still gonna validate ur underlying harmful beliefs)" like i want to make a transphobe choke on my superior synthetic cock not be racist but in a different font

[afropessimistantinatalist]

[unproduciblesmackdown]

billions also comedy gold presenting winston as a scapegoat for abuse culture fans when it's like but hey it can't be actual scapegoating if you Enjoy It or consider it Justified or experience Reassurance from Its Opportunity For A Group Cohesion Substitute For A Cohesion Based On An Inherent Equal Degree Of Belonging, The Absence Of Which Allows For, Encourages, Reinforces, & Rewards Scapegoating

it can't be Bullying if someone's Weird or you Just Don't Personally Like Them or Nobody's Actually Stopping You, Maybe At Least If They Don't See Too Much Of It, Maybe Others Are Supporting It

it can't be Abuse if you're just doing things Normally or are Following Rules or Aren't Feeling Malicious And Aren't Getting Divine Revelations Otherwise and probably it's just that a lot of abnormal people are being whiny &/or unfair &/or the Real malicious ones. kinda just like how that scapegoat is the real person ruining everything and really just forcing you to treat them like this

[iidsch]

Re the Neil Gaiman allegations but it really says a lot about the politics of this website that people care more about gay rep than the wellbeing of women. Major Tumblr darling gets accused of sexual assault and people in his fandoms either immediately jump to "the victims are lying/this is a smear campaign" or continue posting like nothing happened, with only a handful of posts actually dealing with the topic and getting attention. Not even a "let's wait until more details come out but sexual assault is bad". At this point I don't even care if the allegations turn out to be false because the biggest issue here is not the sexual assault, it's the silence of the people around it. This should have been a moment to step back, leave fandoms aside and realize that people are being hurt by his actions but that didn't happen! This was incredibly disappointing, ESPECIALLY after we had a wave of people arguing that you shouldn't buy the wizard game because JKR is transphobic. As always it's easy to cast stones to other people but when it comes to the guy who wrote your fav gay ship suddenly it's a different matter. If you wouldn't do "innocent until proven guilty" for a creator that you dislike who got accused of sa but you do it to Neil Gaiman, then you are willing to excuse despicable behavior as long as it comes from someone you have a parasocial relationship with and you should really think about what it's doing to your own principles and politics.

[ladzwriting]

🫀 THE FEALTY OF MONSTERS Vol 1 - March 12, 2024 🦟

Ute Myśliwska realizes moments before her final exam that she doesn't want to be a part of the Emperor's Chosen at all

What she pays for with her right arm is something even better: an advisory role with the ruler she's had a crush on since their teen years

What could possibly go wrong?

Full cover reveal coming on January 22nd, 2024 on Thoughts Stained with Ink

eBook preorders are now open and, in my itch shop, signed paperbacks

Snippet text below the cut

"If the nurse would please leave, I have an opportunity I would like to personally offer you.” Without so much as a twitch of a brow, the nurse gives a curt bow and leaves the two in privacy. The darkness of the room lends an air of conspiracy. Sunlight barely makes it through the clouds. Through the window cracked open, a brisk autumnal breeze blows. Only Ute’s right arm shudders, and it’s not a result of the slight difference in temperature. General Kwiatkowski looks upon Ute with brown eyes rimmed with an exhaustion no amount of sleep can remedy. “I have come to invite you to an appointment that I feel befits someone of your training. According to your school records, you did pass the requisite courses in the Emperor’s Chosen track, but, as I have stated, the results of your exam are inconclusive. As such, my offer is this: an advisory role with the Secret Service, directly observing Her Highness Świetlana Iwanowicz.” The Fealty of Monsters illus. by Soren Häxan @t-hornapple March 12, 2024

[gaasubap]

The word "vaginal discharge" is the only word I know that means any and all things that the vagina creates.

So what is the new word now that marketing has taken over the word to mean "bad things that must be cured"???

[nebulousfishgills]

pov you're me realizing that in diplopia, i basically had emily dump henry for a sugar daddy

[relevant-url-incoming]

because I'm thinking so hard about the damn roleswap au I might as well ramble about it:

Ven still eventually ends up in a relationship with both Jorgan and Elara, though the development of it is much much weirder than in the version of events where she's just their commanding officer (how do you make that power imbalance less of a problem? apparently by contrasting it with a world where you are literally on opposite sides of a war. ???) - Ven meets them on Manaan and starts to pass information to the Republic. This is made more difficult by the fact that their commanding officer, her brother, has no idea it's her (and vice versa) and despises all Sith on principle, even if they're changing sides, but the trio makes it work well enough to have exchanged a brief, fraught "I love you" right before the whole five year time skip thing

When it comes to romances I could actually play in game with her, she's definitely thought about Lana that way, but never trusted her. enough for it. for almost all the time she knows Lana before the Alliance, she's working against Lana and the Empire, making them enemies even if Ven has respect for Lana. By the time the Alliance rolls around, they both privately feel like any possible ship has sailed for them, and Ven is so caught up in her "I hate that I'm Sith" self-loathing that's been exacerbated by finally working openly with Republic people that a relationship with a Sith would not go well anyway. Andronikos was the other most likely candidate for romance when I thought about this initially, but he gets a glimpse of her at her most vulnerable very early on, and that childlike image stays with him - the relationship they build is very much an older brother-younger sister energy, and Ven clings to him in this way especially because she misses her brother so much. Andronikos' prickly exterior and deep well of care for her is a lot like Nalyan, which pisses them both off when they finally meet each other. (Ven just enjoys that she has TWO brothers now!)

[dubito-ergo-sum-666]

An imbalance between rich and poor is the oldest and most fatal ailment of all republics.

-Plutarch